Nothing to Worry About Now
by rejooc
Summary: Everyone in Ron's family has gone to Hogwarts, but now that he's waiting for his own letter, he can't help worrying. Is he a Squib? Is he going to be able to go? Well, of course he is. Fluff; The Houses Competition; Ravenclaw


**A/N: This world is JKR's.**

 **Ravenclaw**

 **Short Story**

 **Receiving a letter**

 **W/C: 1266**

As the sixth of Arthur and Molly's seven children, Ron Weasley was quite aware of the number of ways he could let his family down. He was quite sure that he would never get as good of grades as Percy, although he also wouldn't pull as many pranks as the twins. He was much less sure that he'd even get into Hogwarts.

His parents assured him that they'd seen him perform accidental magic, but with a house full of seven magical people and two maybe-magical-people, it was just as likely a fluke as anything else. Ron couldn't imagine what would happen if he turned out to be a Squib, and tried not to think about it as he grew up. The easiest way to know, of course, would be when he got his letter to Hogwarts.

Mrs. Weasley had told him, and indeed he'd seen for himself, that his brothers' letters all came in July. He thought this utterly unfair—how was he supposed to be properly excited about something with less than a whole summer to anticipate it? Beyond that, he knew that his family would be hard pressed to afford books and supplies for a sixth child, and it was important that his parents receive advanced notice of his acceptance.

 _If_ he got accepted.

He'd thought of writing to Headmaster Dumbledore, but decided that the famous old wizard probably had better things to do than respond to the desperate letters of children who were possibly Squibs, and resigned himself to wait. Of course, with a father in the Ministry and two older brothers holding important jobs themselves, mail came everyday.

As soon as July 1st came—and even earlier if he was honest with himself—he began peering out the window each morning, waiting for the first owls. These typically came around 7:00 or 8:00, which left Ron in the awkward position of trying to discreetly stare out the window whilst also eating breakfast. Of course, he also had to protect his portion of the meal from the twins, who were always happy to steal his bacon or toast.

When the owls did finally arrive, he began offering to help his mum sort the mail, setting it in piles based on the intended recipient. Mrs. Weasley was very polite about such things, and had no problem allowing Ron to help without giving him any trouble about his reasons. She'd been afraid, once, for the very same reasons. It seemed unfair to make Ron anymore unhappy, particularly when she knew he ultimately had nothing to fear. The twins, of course, were not so nice.

One day, nearing the middle of July, a crisp yellowed envelope arrived, the Hogwarts emblem glistening boldly on the wax seal. The twins saw the envelope before Ron and quickly swiped it, offering to tear it open to check the contents before Ron did, just to spare him the pain of any bad news. Jumping and hopping in an attempt to reach the beautiful letter, Ron was utterly dismayed when Mrs. Weasley levitated the item away from the twins and upstairs to Percy.

"He's been made Prefect," she cooed, a proud smile on her rosy face, before taking a more stern tone. "And I'll be sure to have him watch over you three!"

Fred and George grumbled and complained as they left the room, heading out the front to the yard, but Ron couldn't help smiling. His own mum was entirely certain, beyond doubt, that he would be accepted into Hogwarts. He stared down at his hands, wondering what sort of magic he'd be good at, or whether he'd make it onto the house Quidditch team. He liked to think he'd probably make friends and that they might even invite him over to their houses sometimes during the summer. He'd heard his mum and dad talking about Harry Potter, and they thought he'd probably be about the right age to start at Hogwarts, too. Maybe he'd meet Harry Potter! That would certainly show his brothers.

Sometimes, Ron felt bad worrying so much. He knew he was being a poor sport around the house and setting a bad example for Ginny. However, the youngest Weasley and only girl seemed perfectly confident that she'd get in, and he'd even interrupted her making plans to sneak to Hogwarts in Fred's suitcase one day.

Deciding that if his mum wasn't worried, he shouldn't be either, Ron resolved to enjoying what was hopefully his last summer before Hogwarts. He shot a grateful smile towards his mother, despite her back being turned, and took a step outside to follow Fred and George. Perhaps playing around on a broom would make him feel better. Before he could get more than one foot across the grass, he felt the sharp sting of something thin and hard smack him across the back of the head. He turned, cupping a hand to the sore spot, and saw Errol flapping eagerly on the rooftop, just out of reach.

"Bloody idiot," he swore, noting carefully that his mum couldn't hear him. Dropping his gaze to see whatever mail the dumb bird had dropped, he laid eyes upon a beautiful yellowed envelope with neat green ink:

 _Mr. R. Weasley_

 _The Burrow_

 _Ottery St. Catchpole_

 _Devon_

"Mum!" he shouted, running back inside, the pain in his head entirely forgotten. "Mum, look!" He held the envelope up for her to see, although she certainly couldn't read it considering he was practically bouncing up and down.

"Well, go on then! Open it!" she responded with a laugh, beaming down at her boy.

With uncharacteristic carefulness, Ron tugged open the envelope and allowed the contents to slip into his hand. His smile grew as he read aloud and Mrs. Weasley wrapped him in a tight hug when he was finished. He, Ron Weasley, would be attending Hogwarts in the autumn.

He'd done it! He wasn't a Squib! He'd be a proper Wizard!

"Give me that," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling the letter and his supply list from him, "and you go tell your brothers. We'll celebrate tonight with roast chicken legs, alright?"

"Thanks, Mum!" he replied, feeling equally bashful and exuberant. The relief over not having anything to worry about for the rest of the summer was palpable and he darted back outside with a renewed bounce in his steps.

That night, over a superb dinner of all of Ron's favorite foods—truly an impressive feat considering both his appetite and the short notice with which his mother had prepared the meal—the Weasley family shared jokes and banter, and lots and lots of laughter. Fred and George were eager to share their own knowledge of Hogwarts with the newest student, although Percy and Mrs. Weasley much preferred that Ron's education not include such things, suggesting that they were mostly pranks and lies. Despite their trickery, Ron couldn't help but smile.

He'd done it. He'd gone and received the letter. He really would be going to Hogwarts, and he had nothing else to worry about.

"Don't worry," Fred piped up, seeing the grin on Ron's face.

"What would I worry about now?" he responded, still beaming.

"Nothing at all!" George added, "I've heard good things about the Hufflepuffs! I'm sure you won't get into Ravenclaw, but Hufflepuff isn't too bad. Just as long as…"

The twins exchanged an uneasy look and Fred took over his brother's comment: "As long as you don't get into Slytherin that is."

Mrs. Weasley sighed as Ron shot her a terrified glance, and Fred and George bounded into the kitchen to return their dirty dishes, laughing hysterically.


End file.
